


Harry Potter and the Cork of Green Onion

by WongBal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Predictive Text, considering multiple characters keep dying and coming back to life, so idk what you want from me, sometimes within the same chapter, this is a story where the sun itself orders harry potter to commit murder, which is a bit of an understatement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-10-16 11:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WongBal/pseuds/WongBal
Summary: This story was "written" using Botnik Studio's Harry Potter predictive text algorithms. Originally it was just the one chapter but I decided to keep the fun rolling. How do I begin to describe it? Harry talks to the sun, Ron is useless except when he isn't, and Hermione is determined to kill Professor Slughorn for some reason. Then a shocking betrayal results in a senseless death… twice.*The algorithm does start getting HILARIOUSLY inappropriate in a couple of places (hence the Teen rating) so consider yourself warned!





	1. Hermione’s the Prime Minister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the first (and, initially, only) chapter of Harry Potter and the Cork of Green Onion, Hagrid gets dementia, Hermione tries to steal Harry's identity, and Voldemort mocks Ron's unemployment.

It was the first day of magic. Harry and Hermione were staring into each other’s sleeves. Ron was lying facedown on the floor, refusing to get dressed. It wasn’t a very good mood.

“What the ruddy hell are we going to tell Dumbledore?” said Harry. Professor Dumbledore was looking for Harry; he did not know that Harry had thrown a long robe over his head. (Dumbledore was not a great danger.)

“I suppose we could just go straight down the stairs of magical maintenance,” Hermione said. She took her wand out of her mouth and belched happily. “I can speak to Professor McGonagall about it, and Dobby will kill whoever I want. He has the dark mark, you know.” Her fingers closed around Harry’s whole body and pulled off his legs.

Harry saw his feet hit the wall, and said, “I would like you to go back to sleep, I think.” His legs collapsed into a crumpled heap on the floor beside Ron, who still seemed afraid to get up. He had a large, ugly ring in one hand. “Not to be a dementor,” he told Ron, “but if you’d think of a way out of this, I would be delighted.”

Ron shook his head and stared wildly at the ceiling. He was still trying to ignore them, but it wasn’t because of Harry’s green eyes. He was a little pink Ron, and Harry was quite a large turkey to look at.

Hermione, meanwhile, said, “Harry, I’m sorry about this, but I’m going to have to put your scar on my head. It’s got to come to my head, if you’re going to kill Slughorn.” She raised her wand and pointed it directly at his scar.

Harry quickly hid in the doorway, however Dumbledore was standing beside him and flung a small cardboard box into his face.

“I’m the dark wizard who has the dark magic! I can speak parseltongue to you, Hagrid,” he told Harry. Harry swallowed hard and deliberately had a small laugh. It was so hard to concentrate on Professor Dumbledore and Hermione all the time, but Harry had to do it, or else Ron was a gorilla. Ron was still ogling Dumbledore calmly.

“Oh blimey Ron, I’m important!” Harry said. But Neville Longbottom looked over at Ron and looked at Harry, as if to say: well, well, well, I suppose I don’t have to do anything. Harry muttered, “You will never have a clue, but I suppose you’re Neville.” Hermione raised her hands and scuttled off into a corner. She was wearing his glasses and looked like him.

“I am trying to save you, Harry,” Hermione cried. Ron looked at her face and opened his mouth.

Snape fell out of his pocket and pulled off his robes.

He asked, “What are you doing here, Potter? Your mother died because you’re a little git.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat significantly. Snape fell over and began tearing his own wand in two.

“You are the first one who realized how much homework we’ve got,” Harry yelled. “But what about my arm?” His arms were all over the place. Ron made one hand into a chair and looked at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly and pulled open his robes. Billowing clouds of magic tried to escape, but Hermione seized her wand and turned his robes into a patch of moonlight. Ron demanded to have a chance to keep it, even though it was still burning, however Hagrid came striding in and pulled it into a large bag. Hermione looked scandalized.

“You can’t do that,” she said. “He can’t do that, Professor Dumbledore! It’s not allowed!” Dumbledore shook his head and walked away with tears in his eyes. He did not seem to care at all. He felt his fingers tightening over her mouth as she continued to stare.

“I’m going to kill you, Miss Granger, if it’s the last thing I do,” he whispered into her shoulder.

Harry felt sick, but Dumbledore knew what he was doing. Hermione had gotten out of hand, and she was wearing his glasses. She had to go. Ron gave her a squeeze and looked down at her feet. She kicked him in the face so hard it felt like a gunshot, and Harry wondered whether or not Hagrid was still under the invisibility cloak. Hermione was wrapped in thick brown paper and she swung the table at Dumbledore. It seemed perfectly plain that Dumbledore would collapse, as his mouth was full of blood, but at the very last second, he didn’t.

Hermione gasped, picking up her wand, and said breathlessly, “You must be Mr. Magical, if you think I’m going back to bed before you!” Dumbledore simply rolled his eyes and buried his head in her lap. She cried harder than ever, but Dumbledore had already slapped Hermione and went to bed. It was a relief. They could hear him moving around inside the common room for a moment, and then he was gone.

“I can get rid of him, if you like,” said Ron darkly. Dumbledore was dead weight, and they were climbing the ladder to a baked potato. There was nothing to stop him and the others, so they went to see Hagrid.

They walked into his room and said, “What’s the way to put a hex on Dumbledore’s three broomsticks?” Hagrid happily shook their wands onto the stove.

“Don’t you know about Fluffy the dark wizard that wanted to be stupid?” Hagrid said. Hermione jumped off the ground with a jolt of magical theory. The house rose vertically a few inches into the air and landed on Professor Dumbledore. Harry and Ron exchanged looks; this plan had not been a death sentence, but Hermione continued to burn furiously. She took advantage of their company and was sitting on Ron’s wand. She pulled it out and burst out laughing. The tea was still there, so Harry quickly gave it to Hagrid.

“Harry, you’re a Death Eater,” Hagrid said proudly. Tonks helped them out of their skins quietly, while Hermione gave Harry a venomous charm.

“It’s there to protect you, Harry dear,” she smiled bitterly. Harry looked sideways at her locket, transfixed in disbelief over her eyebrows. _Hermione’s the prime minister,_ he thought, but she broke the table with her enormous hands.

“What are you doing in my house?” Hagrid said, beaming fondly at them. When Harry got his way, his scar pulsed like a small child. He turned around in a whirl, but Dumbledore got back up and crossed into the kitchen.

“Phoenix feather,” he told them, snatching three hundred points from Harry.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the door and said, “You can tell Dumbledore, I don’t know where Sirius Black is!” Seriously alarmed, Harry found a second cauldron with the quaffle and pulled Crookshanks back out of the kitchen. The tea was trying desperately to keep walking, but Hermione seized its horny little feet and slammed it back into the jar. Hagrid leaned over and sat on her face.

“Know anything about horcruxes?” Hagrid said to Ron. Ron hurled a few stray doxies his way, and said nothing.

“Well then, let’s think about weapons to kill Slughorn,” Hermione said impatiently. She was still watching Snape silkily be a giant scorpion. But as Harry climbed onto her shoulder, she crouched down behind Ron and looked more like a toad.

“I know you’re joking,” Harry quickly said, “but if Voldemort has the chamber pots we shall have to keep playing quidditch. There’s dementors in my house, the Department of International Magical Creatures is going to kill me, Draco looks like a pig and you don’t know why the Death Eaters are allowed to visit my aunt!”

Sirius let himself into the kitchen, however his head was a lime, and he turned and set fire to the window. Malfoy shouted at them to share the joke, but Dumbledore merely glanced at him and began shoveling his mouth full of dust.

Eventually Professor Slughorn absentmindedly reached into their midst and said, “Harry Potter is a former colleague, and we never let him kill Dursleys! Shouldn’t you have studied the dark arts?”

Hagrid came into Hermione’s hair and pointed at her.

“I want to do that again,” he whispered. Hermione screamed over and over and began hacking at his throat. The tea gave her a large bag of rats as a personal insult. Harry did a back flip in surprise.

He asked, “What about the dragons? I thought we were communicating better than that.” Ron mumbled apologetically. Everyone had heard him squeak to Harry like a drowning vegetable. He knew immediately where Draco Malfoy was curled up with a huge wooden club.

“Draco Malfoy got a letter from Professor Slughorn,” said Ron shakily. The tea seemed frightened. Ron gave Harry a goblet for his drinks. Harry stared into it, ready to attack. The tea brutally attempted to get into it, but the Slytherins all sat on top. Ron was watching Dobby drink the rest of it, which made him freeze in disbelief.

“I can’t stomach the death of a nasty ungrateful swine! You have to kill him, Harry,” Ron protested. Harry looked unconvinced. He had barely connected his arms and legs, and there was relish in his ears! Lots of people began pulling Harry aside and looking up his sleeves. He told them to leave, but they walked all over his sausages and pulled off his shoes.

“Magic let them hurt me,” Harry yelled at Hermione. They were all supposed to be dead. Ron said nothing; he waved at Harry through a haze of pipe smoke issuing from his nose. Hermione began to feed the chickens Hagrid had. She took off her head to get seriously annoyed.

“Hermione, you can’t just go and take your head off,” Harry said. But Hermione continued briskly raising a massive purple raven up in front of him.

She caught sight of Ron angrily twirling his goatee and said grimly, “Harry ought to kill you, Ron. Please poison the Death Eater.” The Death Eater blundered out the back door and pushed Ron into an armchair beside Hagrid’s brightly illuminated lunch rolls.

“And that’s the end of him,” said Hermione. She did a split, and Harry saw Hermione’s blood everywhere. It looked slightly pink, he thought.

“Good gracious, you _are_ a pureblood,” he said, punching Hermione in the chest. She shrieked at him solicitously and there was resentment in her eyes.

She turned blonde and said, “Potter, you rotter, I’m the Dark Lord! Come on my head!”

Hagrid seemed glad to do it, but Hermione nudged him hard on his lips. He flushed with pleasure, and when she gave him an envelope he knew what was wrong with her. She had short spiky hair and a copy of the Quibbler. It was full of golden buttons and the jar of panic. He was shaking uncontrollably as she strode toward him and began rubbing his stomach. They were trapped in their own interlocked vision of panic.

Harry was struggling to regain the flow of the story. He saw Ron slowly revolving around him with clothes over his snout.

“I’m the only one who can help you think about my sister,” Ron explained. “Ginny took her bed out of your dormitory, Harry. She’s not stupid enough to be here in Diagon Alley.” And then Harry heard hooves behind them. It was Hermione, looking down at them from the shoulders of a snake that had flown up to her.

“I sold the curse-blocking hippogriffs to the hospital! No more detective work for us,” she added. It shattered into a hundred thousand witches heading straight for Malfoy. The drunkest witch called out that she was wiping her mouth on Goyle’s clipboard. Ron gave her crocodile his eyes. She took off her cloak and stuffed it into Ron’s handbag. Then they climbed back onto platform nine and three prisoners, and they were soaring weightlessly through the window into the night.

“Slughorn is going home for Christmas because you’ve forgot you can produce magic wishes,” said Hagrid solemnly, jerking his meat. “Blast it, Hermione _told_ you that sword of Godric Gryffindor’s going to be married to you if you aren’t back here in a moment!”

Harry felt overwhelmed, and Ginny was lying on top of him with enormous gray eggs between her fingers; she whispered something to him as she ~~went down on Professor Dumbledore~~   _[NOPE, NOPE, SENTENCE ABORTED]_. Harry could not understand what she was saying. It sounded furious, however.

Harry asked her, “What are you saying? I thought we were supposed to get rid of those muggles or something. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrggggghhhhh my wand chooses you, Hagrid!” Hagrid was putting on his waistcoat and examining his silk gloves. The elf gleefully followed him out the door, and they never found their homework. Badges stretched into Hermione’s hair and beard, but Dumbledore went slightly mad.

He whispered, “Harry Potter must understand what happened after the elder wand caught him. Percy’s patrol will collect information from Gryffindor house and I’ll… have to kill myself.” Already bulging and looking stern, he took out his copy of _Advanced Rune Translation_ and hit his face with the tip. “Good fight,” said Dumbledore pleasantly, and died.

Bones were trembling ominously on Ron’s feet. Voldemort had entered the room and landed twenty feet in the air, clutching his own stupidity. He panted, massaging his pale cheeks.

“Harry Potter, the boy who used stupid spell damage,” he said robustly to the Gryffindor team, “I’m here to teach you occlumency!” Ron told him to keep talking. Voldemort stood on tiptoe and kissed him, oblivious to Hermione creeping up. She caught him around his ribs while Ron stared incredulously at her face.

“Voldemort’s sister was a muggle,” said Ron enthusiastically, and stabbed broomsticks into Voldemort’s eyelids.

Voldemort decided to be a lot more terrible to Ron and said, “You are a little scab that doesn’t have a job!”

Ron gave another loud cackle, and flooded the floor with ginger newts. “Let’s see you get out of Azkaban in your sleep,” Ron muttered furiously. It was all over. Voldemort was flying off into the distance. Hermione had managed to vanish casually. Harry didn’t need a large slice of birthday cake.

“I’m Hump Harry,” said Harry firmly. “There might be danger all the time, because of Albus Dumbledore, but I think I’ll stay at Hogwarts for years and years. At least until we’ve run out of magical accidents!” He turned on his heel and began painting his face on the wall. Several onlookers nearly broke his teeth.


	2. Blood Stuff and the Dark Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> COGO continues with chapter two, wherein Hermione commits a terrible crime and must pay the price. Also, Harry is racist, Krum struggles with erectile dysfunction and Ron is unkind to a frog.
> 
> Still rated Teen, because the algorithm still likes to be inappropriate sometimes, and I still find it hilarious.

The sun was sitting on Harry’s sacks of magical herbs and fungi. Harry did not dare disobey it.

“I have a job to do,” said the sun. “Kill that little boy in the middle of the school.”

Ron slowly and loudly was trying to remember anything, but he couldn’t. He found a poster of Harry Potter swimming in the Room of Requirement, and ripped off the frog’s balls. Then he remembered what he had been fighting to remember: there were a dozen bits of roast chicken down in his stomach.

He yelped, “Starving the rest of them is a good idea! I have to tell Professor Umbridge… Lord Voldemort married an owl back in my day! Aaah, I’ve done a hundred percent on my birthday!”

The air streamed with rage overhead, soaring into Ron’s casserole dish now that it was nearly eight o’clock. Wax that was clearly supposed to look like Hermione’s swollen face pressed against his skin. He touched the dripping head with his apron and closed his eyes.

“Oh hello, Myrtle,” he said. “Obviously there’s not going to be a basilisk involved.”

The frog said, “You must expect me to spy upon Fleur Delacour! Well then, why did you have to jinx me in the snatchers? “

Ron asked him why Slytherins and Gryffindors were all wearing pajamas under their hair, but he didn’t believe in surprise Weasley parts. He pulled open his trunk and Hedwig made a noise like a trumpet.

Ron bellowed, “What in the name of Merlin’s three heads is this?”

Harry had seen Ginny in her cage of light — Morfin cackled and Harry felt scared of blacks. Harry had never been touched by Kreacher and George at the same time, but they were slapping his elbow to get to him. He sat bolt upright and gripped his wand, muttering frantic instructions to Hermione.

He told her, “You know how weird this school got in a few years?” She shook her head and he raised his voice. “Let’s have a word with Professor Snape, he will forgive me for the world cup!”

Hermione dryly felt his heart. She said, “Harry, come back to bed before you see what happens when you meet my father. You are trying to knock on your own socks.”

Harry addressed Mr. Ron. “How dare you suggest I can’t think? Ginny took me in the forest with Hagrid and we were both there, you don’t know anything about werewolves!”

Ron was howling a long time. He was a violent shade of violet, which meant that Dumbledore could feel his temperature. Krum devoured the door behind him and turned Harry’s glass ball toward breakfast without moving his hands.

Ron yelled, “Harry, he did the cruciatus curse on my mum! What are you going to give him back?”

Harry looked at Ron and said, “You’d escape a lot better if you could steal the Chamber of My Mother’s Need.”

It was not a very good fight with the ghost of Slytherin in the room, but Harry could still hear Fleur Delacour saying something to Hermione; the twins were sitting in front of him too.

Fleur mused, “Harry has come on his hand again.” They both grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him into the goblin’s office. Ron knotted his robes and took off after them, aiming his wand at Harry’s tearful bike.

“I’ve met them at Borgin and Burkes with a knife, Harry! Please don’t stop feeling all misunderstood all the time,” he said. Winky peered around the statue of Harry Potter in a leather jacket and looked up at Harry, who felt slightly exasperated.

“Oh shut up about your parents, Harry,” Winky said. “Courtrooms have got rid of the people, but they still need loads of my flesh. You think you’re the only person who used to have your mother and father and now you don’t?” She was saying it with distaste, but Harry could tell that she despised Ron. It was a good decision, Harry thought. Ron was just like a cigarette: he looked like brown rice, but he was also rather bony.

Ron began to feed Hermione to a stocky little woman who had dropped out of the portrait of Armando Dippet. She was holding a tape measure and a pair of hobnailed boots. But Hermione continued to twist sinuously around Harry’s body.

She whispered, “Blood stuff and the Dark Lord will make you stronger, Harry… Yeah, you know what I mean. You could see a dragon hatching up in your room, and you can do it to me all the time. Dark magic is the only way to be cool! It’s mud and I think you’ll want to do it again.”

Harry thought about it. She was very pretty, and the Death Eaters had a very good quidditch team. But then Voldemort’s girls would put him in their night things, and they were all covered in blood. Harry did not want hands on his chest; he wanted Hermione to complain at him for all of his life.

He said, “Sorry, I think that we are supposed to be doing detention with Professor Snape tonight.”

Hermione gave him a filthy answer. “You just wait till I tell Dumbledore about your soul,” she whispered back, and then she hoisted his robes above his head and threw him out the tiny window. She turned and trod back into the corridor to the Gryffindor common room, where Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, and Krum were talking about Snape’s wig. Hermione told them all to leave the room, but Percy Weasley bent over and began examining her fingers. The last vestiges of her book of spells shot out the door and turned into an enormous gray centaur, who surveyed the room and found himself trapped in the opposite wall. Hermione gave Percy a few seconds before she turned his face into a chair and he flung himself down the spiral staircase.

“He is dead and now I am a werewolf,” she told George. Ron looked smug since he’d fingered Cho in the owlery. She had abandoned her baby at the bottom of a dustbin, and Ginny set fire to it.

Krum failed to make himself hard. Hermione was lying on his desk between Fred and George, trying not to laugh. He looked very concerned. Hermione snapped at him to keep it up.

He muttered, “Time for a month of your mouth, I suppose,” and then held his breath while thinking of cows. Hermione was breathing heavily as though she were sitting on his face.

Snape stepped out of the darkness and held up his shoelace. He asked, “Can you teach me tricks, Miss Granger, five points from Gryffindor?”

“No thanks,” she told him.

Snape sneered. “Oh yes, thank lemon, Harry Potter is dead on the ground.”

Hermione quickly glanced out the tiny window, looking down at the broken halves of Harry. He was looking rather bloody. But Ron had a knack for inflicting punishment, so she asked him for support. Ron shook her shoulder. He pulled her head under the bed covers.

“Harry could come back to Gryffindor tower, if we find a way to put you in detention,” he said. Winky smiled at Hermione and the Weasleys, who were all watching from the sidelines. They walked up to Snape’s body and threw owl treats at his wooden leg. They all scrambled to keep him from knocking on the balls of Harry Potter.

Ron gave her a pencil and said, “Hermione, you know what you have to do.”

She cried a few minutes, as Mrs. Weasley dropped a letter into her pillows and pulled off her eyebrows. She took one last sweeping look at Bill and Fleur and Krum and George Weasley and Ginny Weasley and Mundungus Fletcher (who was snoozing in front of the mirror) and then — holding her whistle and a copy of _Unfogging the Future_ — pitched a small crystal bottle into their midst. It shattered into her eyes — like some sort of explosion, and she smiled and then her head almost fell off. Ron made a grab for her wand, but Percy roared at him through the door and Hermione left the castle. It was the sound of a sudden silence.


	3. The Valley of the People Who Are Currently Very Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Chapter 3, I struggle to make the algorithm be less vulgar (and partly succeed). Also, Harry makes a confusing journey through the afterlife and tries his hand at rap music, Dumbledore dyes his hair and TITLE DROP!

Harry was relieved to be sleeping. It was the first time since George zoomed up his trousers at holidays. Firenze told him that he was exercising his mind — Professor Trelawney had finished kissing him on the shoulder, and Harry felt himself rising up from the ground. She was wearing jeans.

“Harry,” said Professor Trelawney, “you are supposed to be dead.”

Harry was forced to study schedule reading. He said, “Hermione left messages full of ghosts, and I’m up a stream of green onion.” He saw Snape at the door, looking disappointed.

“Harry Potter is dead of course,” he whispered, but he seemed afraid of Harry. “I thought you’d decided to kill us all.”

Harry stared furiously around him and hugged him firmly. “You accidentally trod on your future,” said Harry, pointing to his feet. “But there’s nothing wrong with anger and frustration! I know you were a bit of an idiot to me, it does not matter anymore. I sincerely hope that you are going to get rid of your hair.”

Snape stepped forward and sank into the darkness, making valiant efforts not to laugh; maybe he was a death floor in the end. It was too dark red to tell. Maybe Professor McGonagall had risen from the stomach of Hogwarts to kill him at last.

Harry muttered to himself, kicking his mother and father to the other side of the room, and said grimly, “You are not bear people! I’m old man Harry Potter and I came to do whatever I want.”

They both charged back at him with virtually nothing to stop them, holding posts that looked like ghostly moon glasses.

Harry bellowed, “You were both killed by Fleur Delacour, I can tell! I’m going to kill myself and then Snape.”

“Don’t do that, Harry,” said the familiar voice of his family. “It would be impossible. But you might find a way across the Valley of the People Who Are Currently Very Dead, if you remember where the giant heads were drowned.”

Harry thought about it and burst into tears. He panted, “I’m a bit stupid. I must have forgotten what happened to me! I’m dead and Hermione did it. She has no idea what I am going to do to her face when I am up and about!”

It was not going to be an accident, but Hermione was going to die, he thought savagely.

* * *

The front doors of Hogwarts Castle burned white with the power of Harry’s magical properties. He muttered under his breath and the Cork of Green Onion stung Dumbledore gently in the face. Dumbledore was still alive, if you can imagine that he exists, but Harry continued to burn the entrance with his fist of magic. It turned into Privet Drive for some reason, and Harry entered the maze.

“It’s a death sentence for you, Miss Granger,” said Harry as the train came toward him. He glanced sideways at Dumbledore, and heaved his wand at the front of the castle. It bounced onto the train, which burst open and George zoomed out.

“I won’t remain calm if you are trying to stamp on Ron and Hermione,” George said to Harry as the clanking grew louder. Harry looked at him and he leapt over the school with a knife in his hand. Charlie and Ron both charged at Harry with distinct glass spheres on their feet, but he just attacked them with something sharp and they started vomiting. He used Voldemort’s magical eyeball on his own skin, which began cracking and quivering with rage as he reached the greenhouses.

 _“There you are,”_ Harry whispered to Hermione, who was huddled in her chair behind the nearest tree.

She shrieked, “Harry, I promised I would remind you that Ron Weasley is a free elf!”

Harry angrily dropped a house on her head. She looked disoriented of course, but she was still alive. Harry saw something small and purple in her lap.

“Is that the diary of Count Meat Foot?” he asked her.

She took it out and looked at it. “Yeah, it is. What do you want me to do with it?”

He hit the wall with his glasses and said to her, “Lie down on your side and use your wand to make it into a portkey.”

She did so, but Harry was not paying attention. He used a black liquid to kill Slughorn, which was the only reason they had come here in the first place. Hermione gasped. She raised her wand and, flexing her arm, she continued to stare at Harry as he rapped on top of the fridge.

“I am very lucky, I wrote the last piece of gossip! Harry Potter is the beast and I’m in the Daily Prophet,” Harry confidently repeated.

Hermione raised her hand. “Harry, you don’t have a chance of winning the great Muggle world cup at _all_.”

Harry shouted, angry tears sparkling in his stomach, “You don’t know anything about anything! Now get rid of your hair!”

She let Ron and George in the entrance hall while Harry angrily reached for his scar, serenely carrying a bloodstained bag of cat litter. He blindly followed her up the road, pointing unnecessarily at his own face.

“Lord Voldemort killed my parents and that’s the only thing that I think about,” he muttered grudgingly. His brain felt like an escalator. It must have been his quidditch training that did it, he thought as she continued to dart sideways. He took a gulp of tea and urgently bent the air in front of her.

She shook her head warningly. “I’m so much more knowledgeable than you, Harry.”

Harry did another somersault. “Yeah, but I’m Harry Potter!” He said it quite insistently, but Hermione interrupted nearly four times.

He growled, “Do you mind? I am trying to kill you.” He felt the bird attack was just about to start, so he pretended his hands were a couple of spiders. Brambles stretched out of his mouth and nose, scanning the skies and Forbidden Forest, but no sound came out.

Madam Pomfrey came hurrying along the lane toward them. She sat down next to Professor Dumbledore and pulled out a handful of cutlery.

“Is this injustice?” she asked.

Peeves stuck his feet in her ear and pulled on her sleeve. He took off his bomber jacket and said, “Harry and Hermione Granger know how to survive underwater.”

Dumbledore shook his shaggy black hair and said, “Potter needs Hermione to have a baby right now!” Dumbledore smiled at them and hissed something about his phone. He felt his way up her shoulder and looked at her. “Do I look like Hagrid?” he asked. She turned away quickly, before he could see how strange he looked.

“Hey,” Harry yelled. “I am sorry about Dumbledore’s cave of bathroom magic, but this is important!” He swam high into the air and landed beside Professor Dumbledore, extending a large chunk of green steak to him and Madam Pomfrey. It was on fire again, and Hermione dragged her face on the ground. Disentangling himself from the crowd, Harry tried not to notice the shadow that was standing next to her.

“Hermione, who cares what powerful feelings you have? You could be a murderer if you were married to me,” he told her. Hermione concluded Harry was fully conscious of what a waste of space he was, but she was not remotely afraid of making out with him.

Then Slughorn came back to earth and said, “Hagrid was trying to sneak a couple of birds into the castle, but I severed his head.”

Dumbledore corrected him, “You mean you _accidentally_ did things to his head.”

Slughorn chuckled. “Yeah. Who wouldn’t want to kill me? Hang it all, _I_ want to kill me.”

Harry was revolted. “Well done, everyone,” he told them. “Hagrid would have sprung you from Hogwarts if you had ever experienced Hermione in a car crash! Seriously, you must believe that I am a Chinese headless walnut stupid face!

“I’m growing numb and cold now,” Harry whispered.

Hermione jumped off the dustbins, and she swung the last piece of mirror that she could reach. But it was not a mirror; it was a tiny bottle of Felix Felicis. Harry bellowed louder and louder, retreating behind Dumbledore’s shower and looking positively petrified.

“There, Harry, you can take your scar and kill Hufflepuffs in the library,” she smiled. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall and Snape and Malfoy and Goyle sniggered appreciatively.

Draco said, “Harry dear boy, you are very funny and I think I want to be a basilisk.”

Hermione buried her wand in his stomach and sang to him for an hour and a half.

Dumbledore beamed at her lack of helpfulness. He took another fortifying gulp of tea and offered them all three butter charms. But it was time to leave the bathroom.

“The truth is in the temple of the fire clouds,” Harry told them and turned around forever. The sun had just emerged from the kitchens.

It turned to Harry and Hermione both, and then said, “I thought I told you to kill that little boy, Potter. You have been a very bad little boy! Now you will join me in the darkness.”

It made a sudden explosion and Harry was flames. Hermione screamed and Ron stared at the place where Harry had been a moment or two before.

Gibbered Hermione, “Ron, what do we do?”

Ron slowly said, “…We need to find the death hole.”


	4. He's Dead Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The algorithm apparently decided we needed a timeskip.

Hermione and Ron went brick red. It had taken most of a snake to find the death hole, but it was empty. Harry was not there. He’d been poisonous that night.

The death chamber was looking particularly juicy. Young witches and wizards were flooding out of it — but Harry wasn’t there. Hermione looked around curiously and pulled off her eyebrows. “He’s dead again,” said Hermione. Four years passed.


	5. Shut up, Bellatrix!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione makes a dangerous journey to confront Voldemort

# FOUR YEARS LATER

Hermione was shaking uncontrollably from the outside in. How dare Snape let himself into her office! Where did he get the door keys? Ron had given them to him, it had to be.

“I can’t believe this,” Snape told her cuttingly. “Dumbledore would have wanted you to join the Death Eaters if he were still alive.”

Hermione anxiously reached for heaven. Harry could have taken him out, but Harry had been killed by the fire clouds one or two years ago. It was the stupidest thing that had happened to them, she’d learned. Oh, Cedric had died as well, and a few students had been killed, but they didn’t mean anything to her. Wizards were drowned by Professor Snape and his friend Voldemort three times a week; it was just the way of magic.

“I’m sorry, were you saying something?” Hermione whispered.

Snape made a convulsive movement with his hands. “Harry Potter has been stealing black pepper,” he said. “Blood’s all over the Ministry and there are strange things up and about.”

Hermione’s hands curled into fists. “Potter has been a corpse a long time. Hagrid came to the feast afterward and we all sat together at the wedding – I mean the death holiday,” Hermione said. “Are you sure it’s him?”

He shouted, “It wasn’t Sirius Black!”

She said, “Snape, I’m starving. We should go and get a rabbit to make tea. Harry Potter is dead and that’s that.”

He muttered angrily, “Weasley will kill us all, it’s just a matter of time,” and he turned and trod a few inches into the hall. Hermione gave him an envelope of parchment that sounded like scalding knives.

“This stuff’s all sorts of horrible misfortune and I don’t want anything to do with it,” said Hermione.

Lupin unexpectedly dropped into the room carrying a pile of rags and blankets and a thousand broomsticks. “Sleep in the hospital for a few days,” he shouted at her face. Lupin turned to Professor Snape and pulled out fistfuls of cards from his mouth. “Is this supposed to be a great wizard? Hagrid wasn’t as bad as you are, brown Snape.” Snape smoothly dropped him out of the window.

“Hermione Granger. You are quite a little piece of egg,” he said. “The Dark Lord wants Potter in front of him in one day and night; do what he told you — or Mrs. Weasley will be dead.” Wiping his feet and looking very grumpy, he turned and walked away into the hall.

Hermione was trying desperately to kill him, afraid of his power, what it would do to her if she sounded unconvinced. She let out a low groan. Dad had said that there would be seven years before she hit the bottom, he was lying. Harry couldn’t be here in Godric’s Hollow. The sun had done him in.

Ron. Ron’s voice had changed completely but he would have an idea what to do. She had to find Ron. Wings opened out from her back and Hermione took off through the window to find Ron.

— Φ —

Ron was standing guard one foot from St. Mungo’s Hospital with tears in his eyes as they put his mother in the corner. She was wearing magenta robes and looked like a cat. Hermione’s hand shot into his robes and pulled out his enormous belly. He hadn’t spoken to her in a few years.

Petunia screamed, “Mrs. Weasley’s been hit by a killing curse, see? And you’re late for the disposal.”

Hermione looked revolted at all the Weasleys. “Bye,” said Hermione quickly as she waved her arms and legs. But Ginny sped right behind her back and opened her whole body.

“Got a problem with me?” she asked Hermione. “Four years and you didn’t try to see me.” Her voice was shaking. “No time for me. I wrote to you all the time ever since Dumbledore left me. Harry was on top of things, you callous stone gargoyle! But you didn’t want me the way I wanted you.”

She opened her bag and pulled out her wand. “I’ll kill you!”

Hermione was sitting on Ron’s foot. “Please sit down,” bade Hermione. “Lord Voldemort killed my parents, and you didn’t come to investigate. We’re quite clearly broken now that Harry’s lying in the darkness.”

Ginny got up into the rafters. “I need a second,” she shrieked.

Mother’s blood dripped gently onto her face as she watched. Hermione anxiously wheezed insults out of her mouth as Ron pretended she wasn’t there. “Forgive me…” she whispered to Ron and Ginny.

“I think you ought to go home,” Hagrid said to her. Hermione gasped and fell off the shelf. He was right. She didn’t understand what they were going to do with Ron’s mum’s wand, it was standing on the table next to the fire. Hermione shut the door and held him for the last time ever.

George Weasley sobbed harder and then spoke. “Go and get someone else to scorn,” he said. “Mother died because of you!”

Hermione was trying not to laugh at them, twice as hard as usual, but it was too much to expect of her. She cried and seized Ron’s wand and clawed at his eyes. Fleur happily reached for his hands and pulled his arms around her.

“I want your mark on my own neck,” she said softly. Hermione was quite impressed herself, and looked at Ginny four times before she hit Ron in the ribs and turned into a man.

Hermione said to Ginny, “See what you’ve done to me? Wizards aren’t supposed to be able to penetrate each other!”

And then Snape was standing there with Professor McGonagall suddenly. Fred and George apparated in and they started vomiting out of their ears. Ginny coloured the room full black and George tried to disarm him. Determined not to leave, Hermione did to Ron what she’d been wanting to do a hundred times: cup his left rear ball with his family in the room. Ron eagerly dropped his robes and pulled out the other one.

— Φ —

Down the street, the Dark Lord heard them doing it. “Well, Snape is a great man,” Lord Voldemort said. “Shut up, Bellatrix!” roared the Dark Lord.

She was wearing pajamas in his office and trying to catch him again. He turned off the dark red light and she marched past him and hugged the elf who was huddled in the corner.

Smiling sweetly, he whispered to her, “That’s not my wand you’ve found.”

At the other end of the room, carrying an armchair, was another niffler. How he’d come to be there, I don’t know.

Hermione was still alive, at least. The bones of Hagrid came through the window and George’s right hand flew into Voldemort’s office and down his front steps.

“This is Voldemort’s library,” he hissed, “and I am a great wizard who’s going to kill myself!” Furiously quivering with excitement, he named his wand Alicia and then came into the room with Hermione. It was empty except for a couple of spiders. You can’t blame Lord Voldemort for his reaction.

“Where are they going?” he said hoarsely to the floor.

“Hermione and the others died twenty minutes ago,” said Mr. Weasley brightly. “I think they’ve got a hundred points from Slytherin,” he added. Quietly, Voldemort killed him and began rubbing his forehead.

“The Order of the Phoenix intends to find Harry Potter,” he said to Bellatrix. “I don’t care what they do. Food is the only thing I want to get at the moment.”

She pouted and pulled off her cloak. “Be less unpleasant,” she said shrilly.

He looked stricken. “Back in my youth, I would never have believed this would be allowed, and I was left at St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.” His mouth twitched. “Funny, I’d love to go back there.”

She screamed, “Voldemort, are we going to do it or not?”

 _“Crucio,”_ he said in a low voice. She screamed too much, he thought as she shook in midair.

— Φ —

Ron and George were wearing blue horcruxes.

“See you later, idiot!” Ron said to his son Harry Potter the First. Ron transported Harry to Professor McGonagall’s office and pretended he didn’t care.

“No sign of the rest of the school,” said Hermione grimly. They were climbing the ladder to the Gryffindor common room. It was the safest place in the world, all three of them had said. Words were not the way to kill the Dark Lord; they could find another wizard who would listen to her and jinx Voldemort in the face.

Ron slowly withered as he passed through the window and there was Lucius Malfoy, glittering malevolently in an armchair by the fire.

“How are you doing?” he asked Hermione. He looked wary of them.

“I need you to take my son to the ball with you. He’s going to kill me if I don’t get you to go out with him,” said Mr. Malfoy loudly.

Hermione looked outraged and she swung forward with her hands curled into fists. “You think I want to go with your little git to the ball? I’d rather be in the hospital,” said Hermione severely. Ron gave her a few inches of his wand and hit her with a knife.

“How dare you? I would like to go with your little git to the ball,” Ron told him. “It would be a good chance to kill him,” he whispered to Hermione.

She looked up at him from the floor and bounced up and down on his bed for a few hours. In the distance, darkness drew closer to the castle.

“What a waste of time,” said Mr. Malfoy as he attempted to beat Hermione to the death. “You’re dead! Bang a couple of students why don’t you?”

“I’d rather not,” said Hermione desperately. Malfoy was holding her face in his hands and looking daggers at her. She was petrified. “Run,” said Hermione faintly, “you’re just in the way of my death magic!”

He turned to Ron and Ron looked at George. Then Ron looked at Hermione and George looked at Ginny.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her.

Hermione looked at her with tears of gratitude. “Have you come to find me at the end?”

Ginny happily reached for Malfoy’s wand and said, “Our world isn’t the same as it was. Hermione, you were married to me for more than a year, and you’re still here in my life. Get a grip on yourself. We’re not a couple, okay?”

Hermione was now full of tears trickling down her face. “Is that what you want?”

Ginny caught Mr. Malfoy’s hand between the desks and leaned against one. He shouted desperately for her to do something else. Her eyes narrowed and she dragged him back toward the fire so hard that his hand was blackened and burst into flames. Ginny began to eat his hand.

“Well, this is a really good night,” she said breathlessly, as Lucius threw up on his waistcoat and mopped the floor with his handkerchief.

Hermione and Ron gave her a squeeze and said, “We’ve got to go down to the kitchen. The Dark Lord is going to be here in a jiffy.”

She screamed at Ron to keep walking. Evidently she did not understand what was going on, but it wasn’t very long before Grindelwald came over and sat on her. He told Hermione and Ron to gag on a bucket o’ rats. Ron shook his head dismissively and they sped out of the dormitory. In a few seconds they had reached the portrait of the fat lady. It was locked.

“Make it stop,” he said to Hermione with a wave of his hand. The top of the stairs began to descend. Hermione quickly hid in front of Ron. He looked down the front of her shirt.

“I came in one of the girls at Hogwarts,” he croaked apologetically. Hermione had a nasty look on her face as she watched the top of the stairs coming toward them.

“Wizards are the first thing to make you ill every time,” she said, firmly sponging his face with her hair. The entrance placidly pulled open and Hermione laughed and cast a dark look at Ron. “Ron, you’re expelled,” she said coolly, and then she turned and pulled him into the corridor to be destroyed.

“I must remember his face so they won’t have to,” said Hermione sadly. “Malfoy was the one who did it. That’s what I’ll tell them.”

Magic strode toward her with polite interest and looked into her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione earnestly. “But Harry’s the only one who can help at this point!”

Magic said to her, **“Twice you’ve been able to face the death of your heart. A great black sky is already in your future. The death of all people, it is going to come to pass. Do you expect to be able to resist it?”**

Hermione looked up at the towering figure of magic. “I have to try,” she whispered.

It seemed to shrink a little. **“Could you have done it all on your own?”** it slowly said.

Hermione looked into the darkness and said nothing. A moment later, it was empty except for her.

She ran to the kitchen. The Dark Lord Voldemort was standing beside the cooker, reading a small card. “Dumbledore left this to me in his diary,” said the Dark Lord. “It’s a fake galleon. Very nice of him, don’t you think?”

Bellatrix drew herself up from the kitchen table where she had been eavesdropping. “It’s just a boggart,” she said in a throaty voice.

Lord Voldemort raised his empty teacup at her. He asked, “Was a bit of toast and a couple of drops of mead not in the order? I mean I’m not hungry but we _are_ in a corner of the kitchen, you know. Food is just… it’s all over the place. You know what I mean? I’m the Dark Lord himself, don’t you think I should have a biscuit and a cup of tea while I’m trying to kill the Boy Who Lived? I’m not saying you have to make a hundred of them, I’d just like a cup of tea once in a while. You know what I mean, don’t you, my dear?”

Bellatrix didn’t know what he wanted, but she broke off the fork and then gave it to him.

He muttered awkwardly, “Shall we go down on one another in my room upstairs?” Her eyebrows raised a few inches and she backed away from him. He read the room. “I was just wondering,” he said crisply.

Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at the ceiling overhead. He looked up and pointed at the same spot where she was going to explode the spell.

Hermione’s nose was bleeding profusely from the moment she said, “Call me the prophecy of your soul!” The air behind her opened wide like a weapon.

Voldemort raised his wand and cried out, “Bellatrix! I’m afraid!”

Hermione recklessly reached out and pulled the kitchen fire underneath him. He was on fire. He waved his wand and clawed at his feet as the golden ball of green flames were closing in on him.

Sarcastically, Voldemort laughed at her over the deafening roars of the fire. “You think that this will kill me? I’m fine. Witch or wizard, it doesn’t matter. You can’t even do anything to me! I am on top of the pile, you got that?” And then he magicked a large plate of roast chicken down the front of her robes and threw her wand in the corner. Hermione gave up and did another swig of gin. He had finally beaten her. He felt lightheaded. It was hard to believe that she had almost forgotten about his powers.

He whispered into her face, “Harry Potter is dead and you are going to see him in a minute.”

“That’s not true,” said a voice behind him. “Harry Potter’s right behind you.”

He turned around and Harry kicked him in the stomach.

“Harry Potter’s going to kill you,” said Harry.


	6. Together One More Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final showdown between Harry and Voldemort.

Harry angrily knocked off Malfoy’s head.

“That’s what you do when Malfoy’s a unicorn,” the Dark Lord Voldemort softly said.

Harry stared furiously around the kitchen with great indignation. “Dumbledore was a great wizard who hung from a post,” he shouted at Hermione. His eyes fell off and looked at her reflection in the darkness. Voldemort singled him out for universal popularity and pulled Harry’s ear down to his mouth.

“You can go straight to the hospital,” he told Harry, causing him to make a sound like a pig. Hermione anxiously reached for his clothes to keep him company.

“I should’ve finished kissing you, Voldemort,” Hermione said tentatively. Harry stared at them. “Hagrid got dressed at Hogwarts more often than he did in his yard,” Hermione said in tones of outrage. Hermione was now being attacked by dementors. Harry felt empty except for his mouth full of ghosts. He vigorously allowed the curses to kill the Dark Lord. But he was interrupted by Professor Snape whom threw the quaffle under his feet and slammed into Hermione’s shoulders again.

Voldemort stood up again with superb indifference. “Dumbledore never mentioned Harry and Hermione were both scared of magic,” he said. “Hermione, you are the Dark Lord.” Lord Voldemort tried feebly to find his powers but they were lost to Hermione.

Hermione whispered imploringly, “Harry, Voldemort has finally cracked, and I’m going to shout at him. I mean it, Voldemort! I’m going to tell somebody you accidentally closed the door on your head.”

He looked up and down. “Don’t you dare,” he muttered.

Nurse Harry did a little party with Ron’s head. “Now I am a teacher,” Harry said blankly to the Dark Lord. Voldemort killed him with a letter from Professor McGonagall. Harry felt even more money than usual.

“Ghost mother, speak to me,” said Harry impatiently. Hermione looked up at Snape and his wife and children. An owl landed on his face and opened its wings to say something about what he had done to Hermione in the dark. Hermione was wrapped in thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the top of her head.

“I’m warning you,” said Hermione, “air juice book large turkey sky surprise!”

Harry stared at her. He muttered, “You’ve gone a bit weird, Granger. Remember the rest of us aren’t going to react pleasantly to you accidentally cracking.” Old rat spleen was sitting on the table; Harry threw it over at Hermione’s face. “Please sit down on the balls of your father,” Harry angrily said.

Voldemort was shaking with laughter at Harry and Hermione’s faces. “You need to get a job,” he shouted, and he dropped his photograph of Harry on the floor.

Hermione looked at it closely. “Harry? Did you know the Dark Lord has a little pink note on your head? Where did he get a picture of you? Are you okay?” Hermione raised her hand and pulled his face into her lap (she had sat down on the table a moment or two before).

“Sounds like you need a few weeks lying in bed with me,” she said breathlessly as she pulled open his mouth and pulled out her wand. “Be a good boy and keep your mouth opened for me.” He did as he was told. “Make a sound like a good boy,” Hermione whispered imploringly. Hermione was breathing fast and her hands were all over his body. “You’re coming, Harry,” said Hermione.

Harry said, “I don’t think I am. I think you’ve got no proof.”

Voldemort was acting as if he didn’t want to be there. Quietly, Voldemort returned to his temple of magic and looked into the night air. “I did not want to hear that,” he whispered miserably to his desk.

“Where did the Dark Lord Voldemort get to?” Harry asked.

Hagrid came staggering up the stairs in a car. “Well, this train’s going to the common room now, you want to go?” he said. Harry was forced to get into the back seat beside Ron’s sister. But he didn’t care if it meant Hermione left him alone. Hermione looked positively furious at Harry; her whole body was taut and looked slightly pink, and she was wearing a very small piece of green nylon.

“Lord Voldemort has returned to the chamber of his horcruxes,” Ginny said angrily as they set off down the stairs. “Getting to him in there will not be cheery.”

Ron’s head was lying on the floor beside his wand; Harry threw it out of the window into the Great Hall.

Hagrid turned into the chamber of the Dark Lord’s office and pulled out a large iron pot. “For years and years I’ve always wanted to slam the Dark Lord’s face with this,” he told them. “It is time now.” Beaming, he tripped over the edge of the door on his way out and burst into flames. “Potter, the door shut on me,” said Hagrid as he struggled to get back into the car.

Hermione sharply reached out and burst into flames, as well. “Harry, do something!” she shrieked at him.

He shouted, “You shouldn’t have done that, Hermione! What d’you think I’m going to do? If you hadn’t tried to stop Voldemort, we’d all be in Godric’s Hollow holding hands and looking relieved!” He turned to Ginny and said, “Hermione’s a fake and you shouldn’t have become a couple. You need a little bit of sausage in your life.”

Her eyebrows raised a few inches, and she raised her voice and said, “Could you not?” Harry saw that it was a mistake and he flung himself out of the window.

The Dark Lord was just wondering whether he should talk to them. “Wizards are more terrible than ever before, I think,” he muttered to himself. He turned the door into a swamp. “What’s the point of doing anything?” he said grimly, and looked down at his hands. Snape went through the back door behind the sofa and stretched out on the floor beside Hagrid.

Loudly and confidently, Hagrid turned around and said, “Professor Snape, could you tell me how to survive another ten minutes?”

Harry was patting his robes, unable to find his wand. It seemed to have gone away. But at least he had a key, he thought. Hermione was still burning. It was hard to look at. Dumbledore had warned them all to be careful with their wands, he thought, but Harry had never thought it would hurt like this.

“Die,” said Harry, with tears trickling down his bruised face. “You’re the Dark Lord and you should try to kill me!” Voldemort tried to kill Harry, then he remembered that Harry was so evil. Harry angrily reached for his glasses and pulled off his glasses. Snape went back out the back door and held his breath as Harry lowered his wand. High wind whipped around the room and landed on Harry’s shoulder.

“Please don’t go,” said Snape in the other side of the wall. Dark red light flashed in Harry’s eyes. Ginny took one look at him and began to cry. Terrified, the Dark Lord fell to the floor and smashed into a hundred tiny pieces. It was his last chance to escape Harry Potter. But Harry continued to twist his powers. Snape looked away and turned his face to the floor where Bellatrix’s head was lying a few feet away from her whole body. Lord Voldemort killed her for some reason.

Hermione seemed to be mounting Harry by the light of the fire. Smiling, he tilted the room and Hermione disappeared. Harry could not be destroyed.

Snape told himself, “Now he’ll kill us all.” All the good armchairs had been savaged by Harry’s mind, all the Slytherins were going to be attacked by his powers. Quietly, Voldemort returned to his body and threw caution to the winds.

“Harry Potter, speak to me affectionately,” Lord Voldemort was saying. “I am aware you’re the best student at Hogwarts School of Panic and Confusion.” Rising into the air, he shouted, “You’ll kill the rest of the world and Hermione as well, Harry Potter! Just because you’re a great wizard in Britain, it doesn’t mean anything at all if you can’t even drive!”

Harry felt scared of his own rage. Hagrid was still burning. Harry thought, _He’s going to be a giant marshmallow. I need to find a way to put him out._

Picking up the tray of pies, he shouted, “Hagrid, try not to take it personally!” And he dropped it down on Hagrid’s face.

“That was a great feeling,” said Hagrid hoarsely. “I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea to do that again.” His eyes were still flaming red.

Sirius Black escaped from the kitchens to tell him, “You’re a very ugly old man, Hagrid. Come,” said Sirius, “enough of this rubbish. We can go back to Hogsmeade and buy a box of cursed sneakoscopes.” Harry knew Hagrid wouldn’t be able to tell Sirius to go home, as they joined forces to kill him.

Magical water from Professor Dumbledore’s tomb was going all over the floor; Harry rolled onto the desk and sat on his hands, Ginny took off her jacket and pulled it down around Harry’s face.

“I’ve got you in my bag of magic,” Ginny said, kissing him on both hands. Hermione flew into the room and found Ron’s head in the corner.

Hermione said quickly to Harry, “Harry, do the trick to get his head back on.” Harry didn’t feel like it and he said so. Hermione angrily pushed him to do it so he did. Hermione gave Harry blood from her eyes and buried her fingers in his throat. Dark magic fixed upon Bellatrix’s heart and spilled onto Harry’s feet while Ron’s arms were trembling violently down on the floor. Magic raised a gloved hand and shook Harry angrily but Hermione looked directly at it and burst out of her robes as she waved her arms and legs in the air. Magic shut the door and passed through Harry’s chest.

“Please let me have Ron and Ginny back,” Harry asked. Hagrid happily dropped a large clump of white berries on Ron’s face, and pulled his head back onto his shoulders. Snape was offering to help but Ginny huffily said he could stop talking. Choked and looking like a toad, Ron shook his head and threw himself forward and began pulling his face into his mouth.

“Well, he’s back,” said Harry awkwardly. Beaming up and down, Harry quickly hurried out of the castle and said, “A long time ago I was a kid but now Ginny’s older than I am.”

Sirius abruptly reached for his shoulder and dropped him in the grave of his mother. “You’re a very irritating little jerk,” he told Harry apologetically. “Your mother died doing it with Dumbledore and she swung like a mousetrap!”

Hermione left the castle through the hole in the wall and fell to the ground. She didn’t get up.

“Obviously you shouldn’t have done that,” said Harry gloomily. Her head was looking slightly squashed. He knew she was dead. Harry angrily screamed at the world, “What was the point of all that? I’m so sorry I came back to school! Hermione’s dead and all I got back in turn was Sirius Black and Ron? My life’s a kind of curse and I don’t like it! Are you there, idiot?”

Magic himself trapped Harry in a high wind and said in a deep voice, **“We’ve been through this, Harry Potter! Please don’t shout. Life can be a painful prickle to get through, of course. You aren’t the only one who collapses in the end. And there will be stupid as long as we have the power to vanquish it. You need to put your soul in a car.”**

“I’m not going to try that,” Voldemort laughed. Two piles of green hats were sitting next to him because he had been fighting leprechauns to the death. Hermione’s leg gave a dreadful scream of pain. “What was that?” said the Dark Lord. “She’s not dead?”

Ginny got up from the giant squid waving at him and began rubbing Hermione’s shoulders. “Ron gave her the pod of magical wounds, and she’s all right now,” said Ginny brightly.

Hermione looked up at Harry and said, “Together one more time we can deal with Voldemort for good!”

Harry quickly reached out to Azkaban without moving, and pulled a large black sky into his hand. “You’re dead, of the death sentence,” he said to the Dark Lord who was huddled on the ground beside his cousin who was making fun of him. Hagrid darkly dropped a few twigs and leaves on his face. Harry raised the sword of green onion behind his head and threw it into the sky. Dark forces with rage in their wake sprinted up the road and stopped outside the castle. Smiling widely, Harry told them to find Voldemort and they flew through the gate into his hand.

 _“Where’s my mum and dad??”_ Harry angrily said to the Dark Lord. Voldemort raised his wand and clawed at his cousin who shook her head and walked away. Harry felt strangely high and he flung the dark forces at the top of the tower. Ron eagerly grasped the crystal cup of cold sweat and he flung it in Voldemort’s face as hard as he could. The top of the tower looked like it would collapse and it did, firmly on top of the Dark Lord’s head. Harry and Hermione jumped up and down on it for two hours to make sure he wasn’t going to get back up again. Oblivious to the great danger, Hermione quickly reached for Harry’s mouth and belched flame all over his face.

“That’s why you’re not welcome down here,” said Harry bitterly.

Beaming at them, Dumbledore gently dropped into their midst and said excitedly, “Harry, you’re not allowed to use magic now.” Malfoy sniggered appreciatively. Hermione and Ginny got back in their sordid affairs. Petunia burst into applause. Ron did nothing else for the rest of his life.

# THE END


End file.
